


Secrets Only Grow

by irlbillykaplan



Series: Controversial Reveals by James T. Callender [1]
Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Canon deaths, F/M, Frances comes to America, John is the only changed death, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlbillykaplan/pseuds/irlbillykaplan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens never died at the Battle of the Combahee River, and resumed his schooling with Alexander Hamilton after the war.  They continued their relationship in secret, knowing quite well what the consequences would be if it was ever brought to light.<br/>After the Reynolds Affair and Philip's death, Alexander thought that the worst of his life was over, and he would be able to live in peace with Eliza and Laurens.<br/>However, controversial pamphleteer James T. Callender has other ideas when he receives more letters about another scandal concerning none other than former Secretary of Treasury Alexander Hamilton and war hero John Laurens.  Although, would it be his style to reveal a scandal without playing with the targets first?</p><p>[based on <a href="http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/post/135986729609/i-dont-think-this-has-been-prompted-before-but-a">this</a> prompt]</p><p>Hopefully updated a couple times a week!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold December night, and while many citizens of Richmond, Virginia were asleep, there was still a candle lit in one of the smaller homes.  The candle lit up an even smaller room, cramped by a desk, a bed, and dozens of papers, some framed and others gathering around a trash bin.  A man sat at the desk, a look of determination set on his face as his pen scratched against the parchment at a steady pace, occasionally speeding up as the words came to the man in bursts.  None of this was going to be published, of course, but it was a way of unleashing anger that worked fairly well.  Then - another burst of words, and the man’s pen scratched against the parchment frantically until the tip of the pen snapped and was flung to the floor just in time to save the paper from the gushing ink.

  
“Dammit,” the man grumbled, and wiped his inky hands on his already-stained shirt.  There was a moment of silence where he sat back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, but the silence was interrupted by a strong knock on the door and he groaned as he got to his stiff feet and headed to get the door and tell off whoever was visiting at this time of the night.  It had to be past midnight at this point, but when the man opened the door no one was there aside from a package sitting on the steps.  He glanced around before he grabbed the package and returned to the warmth of his study to see what it was.

  
The tag on it didn’t say who had delivered it, nor who had sent it; it did, however, have a message that made a sly grin alight on the man’s face.

  
_I have heard that the infamous James T. Callender is in need of some scandalous material to cover.  I do hope that the enclosed correspondence is enough to make a pamphlet out of.  I don’t doubt that you have heard of former Secretary of Treasury Alexander Hamilton and the war hero John Laurens?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this!  
> Along the way I plan to add Callender's other adventures in exposing scandals ;)  
> This chapter was short because I just wanted to get this out, and it was introducing our antagonist. The next chapter will probably be about the same length, if not a little bit longer, because it will be introducing Hamilton and Laurens.


	2. Chapter 2

On that same December night, another candle was lit, in New York City.  This candle sat in the study of the famous Alexander Hamilton, who was up for another night of writing about his dislike of not only having Thomas Jefferson in office, but also having one Aaron Burr as Vice President.  The 1800s election hadn’t had the best candidates, sure, but Alexander was positive there could have been some other solution if he had stepped in sooner.

  
“Alexander?  It’s nearly midnight,” the man’s wife stood in the doorway, a small frown on her face.  “Come on back to bed, darling.”

  
“In a moment, Betsey,” Alexander replied flippantly, his eyes never moving from the paper he was writing on.

“Alexander.”  Eliza said sternly, and the man looked up from his writing to see his wife with her hands on her hips.  “To bed with you.  You can rant all you want about President Jefferson and Vice President Burr in the morning.”

“Betsey, I-”

  
“Am I going to have to take your quill away?”  Eliza asked in more of a motherly tone, and she raised a brow as Alexander hesitated.  “Fine; a few more minutes, but then you have to get some sleep.”  She conceded, and left Alexander in his study.  He sighed, and glanced down at his paper, but after being interrupted he had lost his train of thought.  With an even more exaggerated sigh, Alexander put his quill in the inkwell and stood up on cramped legs.  He took a lap around his study, studying each picture on the wall carefully, when an idea came to mind and he returned to his desk.  He lay out a new piece of paper and began his note carefully, pouring his late night thoughts into the sentences.

  
“Alexander, it’s been an hour.”

Had it?  Alexander didn’t bother to look up this time; this was a letter he’d rather not be interrupted while writing.

“Just a moment, Eliza,” Alexander said as he continued writing, “I’m writing to John.”

“Writing what to John?”  Eliza sighed, and Alexander froze.  Did she suspect something?  “It’s only been a day since you last wrote to him.  You haven’t even received a response from him yet, and you won’t until the courier comes.  Leave that poor man alone to enjoy his time with his family.”  As she moved across the room towards him, Alexander hurriedly put his quill away and blew out the candle, drenching the room in darkness.

“You’re right, Betsey.  Let’s get some sleep,” Alexander said, standing up.  “Tomorrow will be another day for us to face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has been introduced, along with Eliza.  
> Another short chapter, and expect the next one to be short as well, since it'll be another introduction chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

It was December in South Carolina, and as much as John Laurens loved his family, he had no idea how his sister managed to put up with her children, especially at night.  They never seemed to sleep, and since Martha’s son, Nathaniel, wasn’t doing so well, the rest of the night owl children were left to be handled by David and John.

  
"Your children are a handful,” John sighed as he sat back in a chair, holding a very defiant Maria Lavinia Ramsay in his lap.

  
“You learn to love ‘em,” David responded as he set a finally sleeping William back into his crib.  “Say, how is your Frances?  Have you spoken to her in a while?”  He asked, looking over his shoulder at John.

“Oh.  No, I haven’t received any letters from her, besides when she wrote to me about her son,”  John said, averting his gaze to Maria, who looked about to fall asleep before she jerked herself awake.  “But I suppose I should check in on them.”  It was more of a note to self, but David nodded.

“Yes, you should,” David said, frowning.  “If I knew that I had a grandson, I would like to meet him and the father.”

  
“I think you’re better at handling kids than I am, David, and that’s why you’re saying that.”  John said as he handed the other man Maria.  “I mean, I would love to get to know Frances and her husband and child, but she’s twenty-six years old, and I’ve never even met her before.”

  
“Here’s your chance, John.”  David said as he took Maria from John and laid her down in her bed.  “Write to Frances, and invite her over.  You can pay for the trip, and then not only will she be able to meet her father, but her extended family as well.”

  
“David, I don’t think-”

  
“John.”  David turned to fix his brother-in-law with a stern stare.  “If you don’t write to Frances, I’ll have Martha write to her.  It may have been twenty-six years, but she deserves a chance to meet her father.  How would you feel if you went your entire life without a father figure?”

  
“I’m sure Frances has a father figure,” John retorted, “and I think going my entire life without Henry on my ass would have been great.”  He went pale.  He shouldn’t have said that.  “I mean- I- just don’t tell anyone I said that.”  He stuttered.

  
David only sighed, and sat down in the chair next to John.  “Just write to her, alright?  We’ll see if she needs you or not, but let her decide.”  He said.  “Now, go get some rest.  I think the children will be asleep for a while now.”

  
“Are you sure?  I can stick around, just in case,” John said, but David shook his head and chuckled.

  
“No, no, go on to bed, John.”  David said, waving a dismissive hand.  “But you will write to your daughter tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the end (hopefully) of short chapters! You got to meet David Ramsay, John's sister Martha's husband, and a few of Martha and David's kids.  
> Also, Frances! She'll be popping up at some point.


	4. Chapter 4

Alexander woke up early the next day and quietly got out of bed, careful to not awaken Eliza as he made his way down to his study to finish up his letter to John.  On his way down the hall, he halfway expected to run into Angelica at the piano, where she always seemed to be, before realizing that Angelica was spending most nights with Doctor MacDonald.  However, he did run into John Church.

  
“Father?”  John stopped in his tracks, staring at Alexander like a startled deer.  “I didn’t expect you to be up this early.”

  
“I didn’t expect you to be up this early, John,” Alexander said, frowning.  “Is everything all right?”  He asked, and John hesitated.

  
“Yes, just swell,” John finally said, offering his father a smile.  “I was just using the necessary.  I’d best head off to bed now.”  He said, and slipped past Alexander into his room.

  
Alexander watched as his son danced around the truth, and made note to mention it to Eliza when she awoke.  There was no doubt that she’d be disappointed in John’s lying, and as much as Alexander wanted to respect his son’s privacy, being up early in the morning was either as innocent as John had put it or it wasn’t.  Putting the thought aside, Alexander continued on to his study and went inside, closing the door behind him quietly before settling into his chair to proceed with his letter to Laurens.  
  
-  
  
“John, wake up, Ma says you’ve gotta help out Pa with the kids,”

  
John sighed as he was nearly pushed out of bed by his niece, Eleanor, who was the oldest of Martha’s children.

  
“David told me he was fine by himself.”  John replied, rolling over to look at Eleanor, who’s brow was furrowed.  “Why’s he need me all of a sudden?”

  
“Because of Nathaniel.”  Eleanor said, and John bolted upright.

  
“Is he all right?  Does Martha need me?”  He asked, and Eleanor frowned.

  
“Ma needs you to help Pa, that’s all she told me,” Eleanor said, “she also says to not ask questions, ‘cause you shouldn’t lay around so much, and she said you should enjoy your time with your nieces and nephews.”

  
“I do enjoy my time with them, I just don’t enjoy being up until two surrounded by screaming kids.”  John retorted as he got out of bed and pulled on his shoes.  “Where are they?  David and the kids, that is.”

  
“The family room,” Eleanor said.  “Uncle Henry and Aunt Eliza are also there with their children, too.”

  
“Well, can they cover for a while?  David told me to write to someone this morning.”  John said, and Eleanor looked ready to argue when he added, “I’m going to invite my daughter to America.”

  
“You have a daughter?”  Eleanor asked, but nodded.  “I suppose.  You’d better hurry, though; the adults are outnumbered.”

  
“They’d be outnumbered if I were there, too.”  John pointed out with a chuckle, and Eleanor smiled.  “I’ll be as quick as I can, Ellie.  Let them know.”  As he passed by his niece he ruffled her hair, and as he exited the room he heard her call after him,

  
“Don’t you call me that, Jack!”  
  
-  
  
James was frantically jotting down his thoughts onto paper when there was another knock on his door and he paused, lifting his head, waiting for another knock.  Ever since the special package had been delivered — he’d refrained from opening it until he’d finished his letter to Thomas — he wasn’t sure if anything else like it would drop by.  Unfortunately, this had to just be a caller, because the knock came again, heavier.

  
“Just a minute!”  James yelled and got up, stumbling, although whether it was from sitting at his desk all night or from the alcohol, he wasn’t sure.  He didn’t care, either.  But he made it to the door and opened it to find his old attorney, George Hay, standing on his doorstep.

  
“James!”  George greeted with cheer, switching his cane to his other hand so that he could extend it to James.  “Long time no see, eh, my friend?”

  
“We were never friends.”  James frowned and didn’t return the handshake, and George withdrew his hand with a playful laugh.  “You were my attorney and that was it.  Why are you here, Hay?”  He asked.

  
“I figured we could catch a show, get a drink,” George shrugged, “catch up.  It’s been a while; when was the last time we talked?”

  
“When I was prosecuted for _The Prospect Before Us_.”  James deadpanned.  “I was thrown in jail, if you don’t recall, Mr. Hay.”

  
“Ah, yeah,” George quieted, leaving the two men in an awkward silence before George spoke up again.  “Come on, James, let’s get a drink.  Go over how the last two years have been.”  He said, looking James up and down.  “Although, you look as if you’ve had enough to drink, so if you’d rather not get drinks — on me, might I add — that’s perfectly-”

  
“I’ll go,” James interrupted, scowling.  “Because you’re buying.  That’s the only reason.  We’re not friends, Hay.”

  
“If you say so, James.”  George said, an obnoxious smile playing on his face as James opened his door wider.

  
“Come on in, Mr. Hay, I have to freshen up quickly.”  James said, turning to leave George in the foyer.  “Don’t mess with any of my things.”

  
“You don’t have very many ‘things’ to mess with, sir.”  George commented, looking around at the bare walls.

  
“Just sit down and don’t move until I return.”  James growled, leaving the attorney in the hall.  
  
-  
  
“Alexander, when did you get up?”  Eliza asked with a yawn as she discovered her husband in his office, half-asleep at his desk.

  
“What?  Oh,” Alexander snapped to attention at his wife’s voice, and he jerked himself into a straighter posture than what he was sitting with.  “Before you did, Betsey.”  He said with a small smile.

  
“Well, that’s quite obvious.”  Eliza chuckled.  “What are you up to now?  Still writing that letter to Mr. Laurens?”  She asked, leaning against the doorframe as Alexander nodded.

  
“Has the courier come by yet?”  He asked, looking up at Eliza, before turning to look out the window.  “What time is it?”

  
“Yes, and it is about eight fifty,” Eliza said, standing up.  “Would you like me to get the mail?  John set it on the table.”

  
“No, no, I’ll grab it.”  Alexander said.  “I should get on my feet for a while as it is.”  He got to his feet and headed towards the kitchen, giving Eliza a peck on the cheek on his way out of his study.  “Do you have anything going on today?”  He asked, looking over his shoulder at Eliza.

  
“Besides educating the little ones, nothing,” Eliza responded, following Alexander out into the kitchen.  “Why?  Did you have something in mind?”

  
“No, not exactly,” Alexander shook his head as he sorted through the mail until he found Laurens’ letter and turned to head back to his office.  “But after I finish my writing, and read this, we could go and visit Angie.”  He said and Eliza nodded.

  
“I’ll make sure everyone’s up, and they can take a break from their studies to visit their sister.”  Eliza said, and Alexander simply nodded as he went back to his office and sat down again, waiting for Eliza to disappear from sight before he opened his friend’s letter.  
  
_My dear Hamilton,_  
_It has not even been a day since you wrote last to me. I do enjoy your frequent letters nonetheless, even if my sister hounds me to stop spending my days and nights writing back to you. I have had to explain to her that you expect, somehow, pages of letters a day, if not more. Is it that you think your hunger for words would alter how time works? That would be quite the accomplishment, my friend._  
_In recent news, I have not been the most rested man these past few days. I know with you, it must be difficult to handle six children, but when the children outnumber the adults more significantly does in your household, I will tell you, sleep is not on one’s agenda. I deal not only with Martha’s children (with the help of her husband, Dr. David Ramsay), but with my dear brother Henry’s children as well._  
_All else is well. I would say that I hope to hear from you soon, dear boy, but I doubt that I need remind you to write. It would seem that it all you do. Adieu my Love, & yrs ever._  
_John Laurens._  
  
Alexander smiled as he finished reading the letter, and looked up from the words to make sure no one was watching him from the hall before he removed one of the smaller, compact drawers from his desk and extracted a box from below it, his secret compartment for keeping Laurens’s letters.  He was putting the drawer back in when James Alexander came around the corner.

  
“Ma wants to know if you’re ready,” James reported as Alexander got to his feet with a nod.

  
“Yes, I am ready,” Alexander said, patting James’s shoulder as he exited the officer and grabbed his coat off of the coat rack.  “Did Eliza send for the carriage?”

  
“Yes, Pa.”  James nodded as he followed his father into the main hallway, where Eliza was wrestling a coat onto William Stephen, and she looked up as Alexander appeared.

  
“Alexander, could you talk some sense into William as to why he has to wear a coat in this cold?”  Eliza asked as he stood up, frowning as William shrugged the coat off.

  
“Well, I suppose I could try,” Alexander said, kneeling down next to his son.  “William, why don’t you explain to me why you don’t want to wear a coat?”


	5. Chapter 5

“I don’t know why I let you drag me to this play,” James grumbled as he pulled his coat tighter around him as the biting Virginia wind whipped at his face.  “I bet it’s going to be as dumb as you are.”

  
“Come now, James, I’m sure you’ll love it.”  George chirped, giving James a small pat on the back that earned him a glare.  “It’s _Romeo and Juliet!_   How can you not like such a classic as Shakespeare’s greatest story of love?”

  
“I find it tedious.”  James responded dully, keeping a glare on George.  “My favorite of Shakespeare’s plays is _Julius_ _Caesar_ ; especially the Ides of March.”  There was a growl to his tone, and George huffed.

  
“My goodness, James, must you always be so negative?”  George muttered to himself, before facing James’s glare.  “I do try to lift your spirits when I can, my friend.”

  
“We’re not _friends_ , Hay, and you definitely haven’t done much to lift my spirits in the past years.”  James muttered, studying George’s curious face until it was too much to bear and James looked down at the ground.

“I meant to get ahold of you when your dear wife passed, but I couldn’t-”

  
“Shut up.”  James halted abruptly in his pace, and he took a deep breath but didn’t look up at George.  “You don’t ever talk about my wife, do you hear me?  Don’t you ever, or I will ruin your career.”

  
“My apologies, sir,” George atoned, and watched James, who still had his head down, for a moment before he looked up at the streets.  “I hate to change the subject as abruptly as this, but if we’re going to make the play, then we must be going.”

 

* * *

  
  
“I’m glad we finally got William in his coat,” Eliza sighed as she watched the children bicker over who’s turn it was to sit at the window seat.  “The poor boy shouldn’t have to ever deal with any sickness.”

  
“I wouldn’t wish sickness on any of our lovely children.”  Alexander agreed, smiling at Eliza.  “And least of all you, my dear Betsey.”  He wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, and she looked over at him with a smile.

  
“Oh stop it,” Eliza laughed, but leaned into Alexander’s half-embrace.  “You flatter me too often, love.”

  
“I do believe that is a husband’s job.”  Alexander smiled, and kissed Eliza’s forehead.

  
“Ew, stop it!”  William said as he wiggled his way between Alexander and Eliza.  “That’s gross!”

  
Alexander laughed, and Eliza smiled, but they both leaned against William until the boy drew away from where he was snuggled between his parents.

  
“You’re squishing me, Ma!”  William whined as he sat down in between John and James, both of whom had smiles on their faces at William’s reactions.  “Hey, is Angie gonna remember us today?  I miss talking to her,” he said as he calmed down and rested his head on James’s shoulder.

  
“I do hope she remembers us today.”  Eliza nodded in agreement.  “But I suppose we just won’t know until we get there, right?  All we can do, it seems, is pray for Angie to feel better.”  She watched as William and Eliza Holly nodded, and there was a twinge of sadness in Eliza’s heart as she watched two of her younger children continue on to new conversations.

  
“Children have a way of seeing the brightest side of things, my dear,” Alexander whispered to Eliza, who looked over at her husband with a sad smile.

  
“The stories you told me of your childhood say otherwise, Alexander.”  Eliza responded with a small sigh as she turned her attention back to William, who was mimicking a cat and making Eliza Holly laugh.

  
“My childhood was something that rarely happens, Betsey.”  Alexander said briefly, his eyes drifting from his wife to his son.  “And look; our children look to the brightest side of things, and that’s what important.  As long as they believe Angelica will get better, the longer they get to be young.”

  
“But shouldn’t we tell them?”  Eliza asked, furrowing her brow.  “They have a right to know once they get older, Alexander.”

  
“But of course; they do have the right to know, and upon reaching an age at which they can process this information, we will tell them.”  Alexander said, sighing.  “Until then, they have the right to remain innocent, my love.”

 

* * *

  
  
It took John longer than he had anticipated to draft a letter to Frances, and by the time he had finished what he hoped was an elegant composition, Eleanor was back at his heels, hounding him about what Martha wanted.

  
As much as John loved his sister, she could be demanding at times.

  
“Jack, we’re getting overrun out there,” Eleanor sighed, tapping her foot to refrain from looking over John’s shoulder to see what he was writing.  “We could really use your help!  Even David said so, and David was the one who wanted to see you writing to your daughter.”

  
"I know, Eleanor, I’m hurrying.”  John responded blankly, eyes still glued to the words he was writing on the paper.  “Perhaps if you were out there helping, instead of sticking to my faults in here, there would be less of a hassle.”

  
“Don’t get smart with me, Jack,” Eleanor muttered under her breath, but left John to his own devices.

  
In what seemed like barely a few minutes since Eleanor had left, Henry had appeared in the doorway with John Ball in his arms.

  
“Brother, we could really use an extra set of hands out there.”  Henry said, but his attention was more on the child in his arms.  “I don’t know who you’re writing to that’s so important, but it can’t be more important than your family, can it?”

  
“You’d be surprised,” was John’s short reply, and he barely noticed Henry’s huff of disbelief as he left the room.

  
When John had finally finished his letter to Frances, he wanted to scrap it almost immediately.  He knew he had never been the best with words; really the only time he felt words flow out of him was when he was writing to Alexander.  But looking back at the letter he had just written, it seemed horribly worded soliloquy that didn’t flow as well as a letter from father to daughter should be.  
  
_Dearest Frances Eleanor,_  
_I do not know if you’ve ever heard of me. Of course, I could only guess that your mother would have told you about me, but if she harboured any feelings of contempt towards me, then I sincerely doubt she would have spoken highly of me._  
_But, I doubt that your mother, Martha, ever had ill feelings towards me, even when I made my mistakes — and I know I made many of those. But I would like to make amends with you, a decision I should have made many many years ago._  
_Frances, I would like to, with all my heart, invite you to visit me in America, and please bring along your family. I would like to meet them as well as you, and introduce you to the family you never got to meet, aside from your grandfather, Henry Laurens. However, if you choose to decline this invitation, I will not have any harsh feelings towards you; you are my daughter, and I, a father you’ve never met in 26 years of life. Your dearest father, & love for ever,_  
_John Laurens_  
  
A loud sigh escaped John as he folded the letter and sealed it, before he rose from his desk to join his family in the living room, where they apparently were in desperate need of his help with wrangling in the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking so long in getting this up!


	6. Chapter 6

“John, you’re here!”  David exclaimed as soon as John had entered the room, and the man found himself being loaded down with children in both arms before David returned to pulling a shoe away from Maria, who was being as stubborn as ever.

  
“You really do need my help,” John murmured as he sat down in one of the chairs, narrowly avoiding being run into by James and Susan Harriet.

  
“Yes, well, right now you can hold John Ball and William.”  Elizabeth replied as she grabbed her daughter, Eleanor, by the hem of the girl’s dress and pulled her into her lap.  “Now Ellie, stay still and let me braid your hair.  Don’t you want to look pretty like your cousins Eleanor and Martha?”

  
“I look fine, Ma,” Eleanor whined, but sat as still as she could in her mother’s lap, watching dejectedly as her brother Henry ran around the room with David’s son, David, on his heels.

  
“You do not,” Elizabeth murmured as she ran a brush through her daughter’s hair, “Eleanor, sweetie, would you mind rounding the girls up with a story?”  The woman looked up at David’s daughter, who nodded.

  
“Martha, Catherine, Sabina, Susan, Maria, Eliza, come over here for a story!”  Eleanor called, and John watched in amazement at how the herd of girls made their way over to sit at Eleanor’s feet to listen to her story.  James, David, and Henry weren’t far behind their respective sisters, and John had to looked up at his brother-in-laws to see their reactions at how easily the children had been calmed.  They looked unfazed, and John wondered why they hadn’t suggested a story earlier to get the children under control.

  
“Ma!  Ma, let me go listen to the story!”  Eleanor was saying as she tugged herself away from her mother and ran over to sit beside her brother Henry.

  
“You know, John, raising children isn’t as bad as you would think,” Elizabeth said as she stood up and moved over to John’s side, her eyes on the kids.  “There’s a feeling of pride that comes with just about everything the little ones do.”

  
“And the screaming and spontaneousness?”  John asked, raising a brow as he looked over at Elizabeth, who chuckled and shook her head.

  
“Why, John, that’s part of the excitement.”  Elizabeth said, looking up at John with bright eyes.  “Now, David tells me you’re inviting your daughter over for a visit.  I have some suggestions on how to win her approval that are guaranteed to work because I am the same age as your daughter.”

  
“Shoot,” John said, and Elizabeth nodded.

  
“She has a son, yes?  Well, for one, make yourself kid-friendly, which doesn’t seem to be the case here,” Elizabeth pursed her lips when John gave her an innocent frown.  “You know you aren’t very kid-friendly, John.  Fix it.”

  
“I’ll try my best.”  John sighed.  “Is that it?”

“Oh God no, John.  Have a seat; this might take a while.”

 

* * *

  
  
“You call that acting?”  James grumbled as he followed George out of the theatre, pulling his coat around himself as the blistering winds hit him in the chest.  “I call that worse than Adams thinking he could pull off the Presidency.”

  
“James, your expectations are too high,” George said as he looked over at the temperamental man.  “It’s not as if they could actually _kill_ the actors onstage.”

  
“My expectations are too high?  I just want to see a quality play for once, not some half-put together mess of bad actors.”  James shot back, and glared at the ground as he walked, leaving the two men in silence until George spoke up again.

  
“So sorry to bring the topic back up, my friend-”

  
“We.  Are.  Not.  _Friends_.”  James interrupted, but George continued.

  
“-but have you thought of going to live with your children?  They must miss you, and without their mother being around, they must think themselves orphans.”  George said, and James stiffened.

  
“I told you we don’t discuss that topic.”  James responded as he tried to speed up, but George matched his pace and kept talking.

  
“How old are they?  Old enough that you left them by themselves in Philadelphia, I presume,” George said, and James stopped and turned to face the attorney.

  
“Look, Hay, I don’t know _who_ you think you are, but you have no right to be talking to me about my personal issues.”  James stabbed a finger into George’s chest.  “My children are in hands I trust.  Once I pull myself together I can pay them a visit.”

  
“From all the alcohol in your home, good sir, I doubt you’ll ever be in a state to visit your children.”  George said bluntly, and James shoved him backwards.

  
“You’re not going to get me to treat you fairly in the papers with a bite like that, Mr. Hay.”  James warned, and it was George’s turn to grow furious.

  
“I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, I had no ill intention in the _Hermione_ scandal.”  George grumbled.  “I found what I could, and I didn’t mean to hurt your father-in-law’s reputation.”

  
“You withheld evidence!”  James growled, and George raised his chin.

  
“I do believe you can see yourself home, Mr. Callender.”  George said, and James offered him a sarcastic bow.

  
“I do believe I can, Mr. Hay.  Thank you for the evening, and for the drinks.”  James scoffed as he turned on his heel and left his former attorney standing in the road.

 

* * *

  
  
When the carriage finally pulled up to Doctor MacDonald’s house, the Hamilton children were practically bouncing off the walls from being cooped up for so long.  James was the first one to stumble out of the carriage and get a safe distance away before the others came pouring out behind him.

  
“That was an experience,” Alexander, Jr., muttered to James once he finally got out of the carriage.  “And to think, we’ve got to ride with that on the way home.”

  
“I guess it wasn’t so bad,” James shrugged, “we did get to spend time with the family.”

  
“At what cost?  The cost of my hearing, that is, dear brother.”  Alexander rolled his eyes as James chuckled.

  
“William is a loud one.”  James nodded in agreement.  “But he’s a good brother.  Dependable.”

  
“He’s still young, and still could grow up to be a jerk.”  Alexander pointed out, and James shrugged.

  
“That’s so, but I doubt that could happen to William.”  James said, and he glanced over his shoulder as his mother exited the carriage carrying Philip, who was about a year old now.  “Now, John, on the other hand…”

  
James was cut short as his father rounded up the kids and made a head count before he set the expectations.

  
“Don’t be rude; Doctor MacDonald is a very nice man, and although I don’t doubt that he can tolerate quite a lot, we don’t want to be bothersome.  Second of all, when we go to visit Angie, don’t be too pushy.  We visit her one at a time, and you cannot be offended if she refuses to speak with you.  It’s tough for her.”  Alexander’s voice dropped, and Eliza patted his back before taking up his speech.

  
“Point is, little ones, we are to be on our best behavior, yes?”  Eliza waited until she got a chorus of “yes’s” in response before nodding.  “Excellent.  Let’s go.”  She readjusted her grip on Philip and took William’s hand, who was walking slowly next to Eliza Holly.

  
“I bet she won’t remember you,” John said as he came up beside Alexander and James.  “She didn’t last time, so she probably won’t now.”

  
“John, we’ve all got an equal chance of being recognized.  Stop acting so special.”  Alexander muttered, but James could remember the last time they’d visited Angie.  He definitely didn’t want it to go that way again.

  
“I’m not acting special.  I’m just saying that I’ve got more of a special connection with Angie than you do.”  John said, looking up at Alexander innocently.

  
“Nobody has any sort of special connection with Angie now.”  Alexander growled.  “Philip was the only one, and he’s _dead_.  So I’d quit acting condescending, John, because unless you can magically become Philip, any sort of ‘special connection’ you think you’ve got with Angie is a figment of your imagination.”

  
Alexander continued walking and didn’t even pause to hear John’s snappy response.


End file.
